


Helpful

by radio_antlers



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Post Season 5, Short & Sweet, Word count: 500 - 1000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29750253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radio_antlers/pseuds/radio_antlers
Summary: Glimmer has always had a taste for fighting, and Bow's always around to take care of her.
Relationships: Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Kudos: 3





	Helpful

Glimmer was a fighter. She was the Queen now, so she didn’t get in on the action as much as she would like to, but she was a fighter, through and through. 

Being able to throw a solid punch, being able to knock someone flat on their back was something she took pride in. She liked- no, loved the rush of adrenaline that coursed through her bloodstream before a battle, the weightless energy that swirled around her as she shifted from one foot to the other, and the accomplished feeling that washed over her at the end, knowing that she could put up a struggle. Even if she had lost, that prideful swarm usually outweighed the discouragement at the end of the day. 

Born and raised the daughter of a remarkable sorcerer and general, inheriting that same stubborn determination and flaming drive to defend and protect people, Glimmer was well acquainted with injury. Scratches, bruises, cuts, missing teeth, broken bones; you name it, she’s dealt with it at least once. When she was five, she broke her arm after tripping over a risen root, chasing something near the edge of the Whispering Woods. Angella had really let her have it that time, interrogating her on what the bloody hell she had been thinking, running off into the woods after who knows what (coincidentally, Glimmer couldn’t remember what it was) while wrapping her right arm in thick bandaging. Her mother had never been too fond of the forest; thought it was a dangerous place to hang around, especially for children. 

The sight of blood and broken appendages didn’t make Glimmer feel queasy. She was a fighter, and you can’t be a fighter without getting a couple of battle wounds to go along. Scars hold memories, hold stories, good or bad. They show how far you’ve come. Glimmer had a curving scar near her shoulder, almost invisible to the naked eye unless you paid immaculate attention to detail. It came from a sparring match with one of the Bright Moon guards, whom she bribed to teach her how to fight without the use of her powers if worst came to worst. She fallen backwards, landing on a rather sharp rock at a rather odd angle, splicing through the fabric of her clothes and breaking the skin just shallow enough to not require stitches. The guard, naturally, had freaked out, worrying that they were going to lose their job, worrying that they’d somehow played a bigger part in hurting the princess, but Glimmer acted as if nothing had even happened. 

She got the scar because she was being challenged, she was improving. It was the mark of a milestone. 

(The guard didn’t lose their job, by the way. If anyone asked, they were standing guard outside, just like they were supposed to.)

Bow wasn’t a fighter, not really. He knew how to defend himself and others quite well, but he doesn’t crave it like Glimmer does. Fighting isn’t in his spirit; he has a kind one, a nurturing, gentle one. That’s not to say that Glimmer doesn’t posses those qualities, but you get what I mean. 

He’d sit off to the sidelines after a confrontation of some kind, offer his services to anyone who needed it, giving them compliments on how well their technique is and how courageously they’d fought as he patches them up. He’d fix weapons, help create better battle plans, take care of the things that would ensure his friends – and at this point, Bow feels like he could call the rest of the Rebellion members his friends – had a fair chance at victory, no matter what the circumstances.

Patching Glimmer up after little scuffles was how he got his more regular practice. She’d teleport into her bedroom with a bloody nose and busted lip, stumble over to Bow, plop down right in front of him, and let him take care of the residual blood and dirt that stained her face and knuckles with a crooked, proud grin going from ear to ear. 

“What happened this time?” He’d ask, voice calm and quiet as he staunched the bleeding from Glimmer’s nose. 

“A dumb monster,” she whispered back. “Half fox, half boar, but stood on two legs. It had a mean right hook, I’ll admit.” Glimmer would pause for a second, watch the inkling of concern drip down her boyfriend’s face, before her own daring smirk morphed into something kinder. “Don’t worry; I was being careful.” 

Bow would usually ask how there was a “careful” way to fight someone, but occasionally, he’d simply bite his tongue and return to work on Glimmer’s injuries, tying off the bandages on her knuckles and wiping the trickle of crimson from her chin. Her nose stopped bleeding at this point, and you could hardly tell that she’d been in a smackdown not but three minutes ago. 

“There you go, good as new!” 

And each time, no matter what happened or how long the actual patching-up process took, Glimmer would lean over and press a kiss to Bow’s cheek, as a thank you. And they would sit together by the window, fingers threaded together and weapons nearby, watching the sun slip beneath the canopy of trees, waiting for the creatures of the night to emerge. 

Or fall asleep. Whatever happened first.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :D


End file.
